But Nobody Came: A Genocide Novelization
by skelereaper13
Summary: There is a layer of reality that cannot be seen with the naked eye. This reality borders on the edge of our reality and a seemingly uninhabited reality. It is a form of purgatory, and can manifest monsterkind's deepest nightmares. There is a subject in my experiment who entered the alternate reality. She said: "The puppetmasters. They control all." (Rating might change later)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Before we start, let me just say this was inspired by Silent Hill, one of my favorite game franchises. This story will share elements of the Otherworld. This is a re-imagining of the genocide run, but more nightmarish and intense. Enjoy the story. And also, this is my first fanfiction on this website.**

 _It was as if a painter colored the world black. The sky and ground was seemingly invisible to anyone left living in the forsaken world. This world was plunged into the depths of madness, but with nobody to share it's influence with. The fall was inevitable though, but who knew it could have started with such an innocent child. A child that had such an important burden. In the eternal darkness lay a human._

 _To their side, stood a lost spirit. It's face was frozen in place, in that eerie static that replaced the features on the spirit's face. He stares at his hands, dust caressing the soft skin that it laid on. The living embodiment of guilt sat there, ignoring the ash that fell from the non-existent sky._

 _Their name is Frisk._

 _And they regretted their decisions._

Light. A warm and bright light. Gold. Golden flowers grazed their skin. Brown. Brown hair appeared in their vision. Their eyes open, excepting to see someone. But nobody came. Their eyes glance towards their arms. Surprisingly, no cuts were present, which was very strange. They had just plummeted down the mountain. The forbidden mountain.

All of it was repeated.

Curiosity is an evil thing. It's like a venomous snake injecting you with emotion. Curiosity and their determination worked as a team. They would try something. Something new. Something so inexplicable that nobody would expect. After all, the fall had been inevitable.

'My name is Frisk.'

Frisk's hand groped for their trusty stick, whom they had used previous times. Their hands eventually grabbed ahold of something. Something unlike the feeling of wood. Steel. Their hand wrapped around the handle.

The spirit stood beside them. Her serene smile faded into a emotionless face. The air surrounding them grew thick with the realization that stung Frisk with fear.

A knife.

They examined the knife. One jab from the weapon would be fatal. A decisive blow would instantly turn a monster to dust. The reflection in the mirror seemed as if their face mocked them. Frisk left the weapon on the floor, and he could slightly see the spirit's smile return. The two walked to the door. Across the purple-pillared doorway, there was the flower.

That flower.

"Howdy! I'm FLOWEY! FLOWEY the FLOWER. Hmmm...you're new to the UNDERGROUND, aren'tcha? Golly, you must be so confused! Someone ought to teach you how things work around here! I guess little old me will have to do. Ready? Here we go!"

The world around them blacked out. Their eyes focused intently on Flowey as he looked at their SOUL.

"That is your SOUL, the living embodiment of-"

"Enough."

"Huh? Did you just talk?" Flowey's face grew sour with annoyance.

Frisk walked towards the doorway, passing the yellow flower on the way. It now replace its face of annoyance to one of confusion.

"Answer me."

They turned around and glared hatefully at Flowey. Flowey could faintly see the flash of red in their eyes. The unnerving tension that formed between them made the helpless flower disappear, descending into the ground. Over the doorway, Frisk's eyes were laid on the object stabbed into the floor.

The knife.

They were baffled as they looked to their side. The spirit frowned, her bangs obscuring the eyes they had never seen. Frisk took one last glance at the weapon as they walked to the next room. Although they entered the next segment of the area, they found that they were in the same room. The knife was on the same spot in the room. Frisk walked on the path to the next room.

The same room.

Frisk started to run. Each desperate attempt to get to the next room was met with disappointment as their eyes focused on the sharp knife embedded on the purple path.

'What the hell is going on?'

They eventually walk towards the knife. Each step they took closer to the weapon made their shoulders heavy, like a weight had been laid on them. They snickered at the thought of gravity betraying them. Frisk kneeled down on one knee as their hand felt the familiar feeling of the cold handle on their fingertips. They were suddenly hit with a feeling unlike any other. White blinded his vision.

"What do think it is?"

"What do you think it is, Rei?"

"A knife?"

"No kidding."

"Hey, what are you doing?...Don't touch it, do you know how Mom and Dad would react if you had a weapon in your hands?"

"Calm down, I'm just...looking at it."

"...Let's go, I think I see the flowers nearby."

"Okay."

"Don't bring that thing..."

"Child, are you okay?" A familiar voice rang out.

Frisk opens their eyes. The spirit is gone. They look at the woman before them. Toriel. She stares down at them, a look of concern on her face. They slowly nod as they stood up.

"I saw you here, unconscious. Here, let's go to my home."

Toriel grasped their hands as she led them to the next room of the area. He quickly looked at the spot where the knife laid.

The knife was nowhere to be found.

"Here, I'll give you a cellphone. You can contact me anytime you need me. I'll be running some errands. You stay put here until I am finished, okay?"

Frisk nodded.

"See you later, my child." Toriel ruffled their hair before leaving the room.

They walked through the Ruins, ignoring the same scenery. Boredom seeped into every pore of their body. They stopped. A Froggit initiated a battle with the human. Their hands hover above the ACT button as he proceeded his usual routine. They stopped and stared at the button on the far left.

 **FIGHT**.

They had never made mention of the option on their numerous journeys through the Underground. They contemplated the morbid ideas in their head. They tried to shake them off, but they couldn't help to think how would they attack. Would they use a projectile? Would they use their stick? Hell, would they use their bare hands? Curiosity is one hell of a motivator. They had a choice. **FIGHT** or **SPARE**. The wheel of fate made them decide their destiny.

Frisk's body lunges forward against the helpless monster. Their hands swing sideways. Their face was immediately hit with dust as the Froggit's head flew in the air. The lower part of its body dissolved into a pile of dust, along with its head. They stared at their hands. Dust coated his hands as tears start dripping from their eyes.

'I...I killed...'

Frisk stares at the knife in their hands. Their reflection stared at him, not mockingly, but it seemed to be congratulating them. Like a baby having its first steps. They looked at the wall on their left. The walls were peeling off, revealing rust in a relatively crimson red color. The newly shed dust rained in drops as the room was plunged in the same condition as the ruined wall. The falling dust eventually covered the wall they looked at, revealing words.

 _ **"All your fault.**_ "

Frisk laughed. They didn't cry tears of remorse. No, these were tears of joy. They felt a hand on their shoulder. They looked up, and the spirit stood next to them, a new smile appearing on her one depressed face.

" **Let's go.** "

Frisk sat up. Their eyes quickly look at their hands. No dust. They stand up and start walking. The rooms were all empty, not a single monster appearing out of the shadows. They imagined an eerie ambience heard in the rooms. This was strange. Froggits, Whimsuns, Migosps, and numerous other monsters would usually ambush them. Here, there was silence. Also, no signs appeared while they began their walk towards the next room.

They stopped as they saw the stairs leading down. They had never seen a room with stairs leading down. Their phone (which they forgot) received a voicemail. They quickly fished the phone out of their pocket and listened to the message.

"Hello, my child. Where are you? It has been hours since I last saw you. I have sent 4 voicemails to you, but you have not answered any of them. Are you lost? Call me. I hope you get home safely. Goodbye, my child.

Frisk was confused. They had been gone for, what he presumed to be, hours? What was going on right now. There was the repeating room, the knife, the hallucination, and the nightmare. What could possibly come next? They dialed in Toriel's number and pressed the phone to their ear.

"Hello?"

The sound of TV static blared in their ear. They lowered the phone and heard the sound of a woman in the speaker.

" **Fr...i...k...p..lea...e...ru...n.** "

Frisk looked to their side as the walls peeled away again.

'What is wrong with me?'

They heard the sounds. The sounds of the monsters inhabiting the Ruins. Dust started to pool down the room behind them. The piles of dust pressed against each other. They turned into the shape of the monsters, Froggits, Migosps, Whimsuns, and the others.

They started their pursuit against the petrified human.

Frisk started their descent down the stairs, using his phone to light the way. The stairway stretched down, the horrific sounds of the dust monsters making them run faster. They never turned around, afraid to see the monsters' faces. Frisk was beginning to tire out, but they kept going, adrenaline and their determination keeping them going. The stairs never disappeared. The monsters got closer, and Frisk was starting to accept his fate.

They were going to die. They knew they killed the monsters. They knew this was some sort of karmic justice. They let Death take them in his boney hands, and closed their eyes.

Light.

Frisk opened their eyes. It was one of those stereotypical "light at the end of the tunnel" moments. One that fueled them with determination. They galloped. They could practically feel the dust monsters' breaths on their shoulder. They jumped out of the stairway, falling on the floor. Frisk picked themselves up and looked back.

The dust monsters dissipated into piles of normal dust. It blew away as the wind picked it up. They were home. The tree towered above them. There was an inscription carved into the tree.

"Are you prepared to take this path?"

The spirit stood beside me. She stared at them with a smile as they walked into Toriel's home. Next to the passageway was the familiar object, coated in dust. Another message appeared on the wall.

 ***But nobody came.**


	2. Chapter 2

" _In the next following sentences, I will explain a very complex concept to my followers. I will store this report in my addendum for further notice._

 _There is a layer of reality that cannot be seen with the naked eye. This reality borders on the edge of our reality and a seemingly uninhabited reality. It is a form of purgatory, and can manifest monsterkind's deepest nightmares. There is a subject in my experiment who entered the alternate reality. When I questioned her about the world, she stared at me and muttered,_

 _'The puppetmasters. They control all.'_

 _I will keep the subject in for further testing._

 _\- W. D. G._ "

Frisk's eyes open wide. They seem to be in a bedroom. The spirit disappeared again. They stood up of the bed and opened the wooden door across the room. The walls are rusted again.

'Not again...'

The narrow hallway was illuminated by Frisk's cellphone light. There was writing on the wall. Each new message unnerved the human more.

"Child, how are you?"

"What are you doing?"

"What is that on your hand?"

"Wait, what?"

They received a new voicemail.

"All your fault."

Frisk reached the end of the hall. The door stood like a sentinel. Like a rope ready to hang them. Their hand shakily grasps the cold doorknob. They quickly open the door bracing for whatever was awaiting them across the door.

Darkness.

Deep breaths. Frisk's eyes refocus on the sight before them. It was a mess. Dust spattered all over the once pristine walls. Their body heaved like they were heavily wounded. They look down at their abdomen to find a severe burn wound. Reality came back to them as pain seared through the wound. The skin was singed off. They ran to the kitchen, and to the sink. They sat down on the counter and ran cold water over the burn.

It stung, but it was helping very much. The pain subsided, giving them the chance to grab some ointment from one of the drawers. They grabbed a towel hanging on the stove. The pain started to surge within them again. Adrenaline rushed through them as they took off their shirt, quickly applied the ointment, and wrapped the towel around their stomach. They put their shirt back on and sit down.

Panting, Frisk started to put some things together in his mind. They had been obviously burned by an unknown assailant, but the question still remained: Was it accidental or on purpose? They thought of all the people who could use fire.

'Wait a second...Tor-"

Groaning. Frisk stood up slowly, hearing the audible sound. They trembled in place. Frisk opened the door widely, an undeniable dread filling them. They were in the living room again.

"Why did you?" A feminine voice rang out.

Frisk could hear the sound of...a music box? Pop goes the weasel. The hallway leading to their room and Toriel's was dark. Frisk once again turned on their phone. The walls once again reveal a message.

 **All your fault**.

At the bottom of the scratched in "t", there was an object pinned to the wall. Frisk knew it was the same object as before.

The knife.

They had been treating it like a messager. One that would bring the delivery of death. A harbinger, to say the least. Arrows were carved in the wall. Leading to a lone mirror. Their reflection stared at them, seemingly with a depressed look. Their hand touch their own in the reflection. They blinked.

In the mirror, their reflection changed.

The brunette staring at them had ruby red eyes, a green and yellow stripped sweater, and short shorts (as one would call it). Frisk couldn't look away from her gaze. Their eyes admired the rosy red cheeks and that eerie smile that petrified them to the core. Their hand pulled away from the mirror and saw that, in the exact spot their hand was on, there was a bloody handprint on it. Frisk observed the print before they felt an agonizing pain in their head.

Their hands grab their head roughly, but the minor pain was in no way compared to the headache they were having. They closed their eyes tightly. The pain started to subside and Frisk's eyes flashed open. They were laying on a bed. Their room in Toriel's house. In a way, it was different.

The room was a bright red color.

Frisk was unnerved, to say the least. Their hands slowly pull the sheets off them. Their gaze never left the inscription painted into the wall, in a dark ink. No, not blood, but it was something akin to it. The same phrase was written in the same ink on all the walls of the room.

 **But nobody came**.

They stood in the middle of the room. Their eyes focused on the door leaving the room, chained and locked with an ancient padlock. It was rusted, but functioned well. They thought back to the events before. One struck out like a sore thumb.

The girl in the mirror.

They never saw the spirit again since they walked through the passageway to Toriel's house. They looked to one corner, and a jack-in-the-box with a note on it:

"My favorite."

Their phone started ringing. The caller was Toriel. Frisk was reluctant to pick up, but decided to do it anyway. They answered.

"My child, would you like some butterscotch pie?...Why aren't you answering?...Please answer me, dear...Why do you have a flower sticking out of your mouth?...Is that?...Oh my...are you okay?"

The call ended. Frisk examined the box, missing a handle to turn. They walked to the closet in the back of the room and pulled it open. Inside was the knife, holding another note. They tore the paper off the wall and read it.

"Picture of me and my little brother."

Frisk stared at the photo, two figures in the picture. Their faces were scribbled out with permanent marker. They also noticed something else about one of the figures.

Someone drew a smiley face in red marker on its scribbled out face.

They put the photo back and walked to the drawers in the other corner of the room. I pulled one out and found a screwdriver along with a tape recorder in it.

" _Log date 09 20 0X. The subject is in critical condition. Further attempts to help the subject recover is turning futile. Our chances of her surviving is very slim. However, we must hope for the best and find the last piece of data to accomplish our research. The whole Underground is depending on it. Signing out, W. D. G._ "

'W. D. G.' doesn't ring a bell in Frisk's mind. They place the recorder back inside the drawer and take out the screwdriver with them. They go back to the jack-in-the-box and insert the screwdriver in the hole where the handle is supposed to be. It fit, to Frisk's surprise. They test it out, turning it slightly and it was sturdy. They keep turning it, and the music starts to play. It sounds melancholic, but soothing.

The top popped open to reveal a flower, and on the petals was a key. Frisk takes the key and unlocks the door. They walk out the threshold and onto the hallway ahead. The door slams behind them. Frisk jumps in surprise and continues down the hallway. Using their phone as a source of light, they walk down the long hallway.

Its looping again.

The hallway began to become ruined, deteriorated. The wall turned into the same rotting condition and water dripped from the damp ceiling. They kept going, albeit faster due to the new realization. Frisk got another call. From Toriel.

" **Run.** "

The phone started to emit a screeching noise, and a thick dread was weighed onto their shoulders. They start to jog. A new sound appeared which made them run swifter.

Groaning.

Frisk turned around to see the mass of dust fused to create the shape of the inhabitants of the Ruins pursuing them yet again. The sounds of groaning and crying only gave them a reason to run faster. The sound of the static intensified the chase so that there were no room for errors. Their legs began to give, but they wouldn't become a victim to this abomination. A tentacle slithered to Frisk's leg, and they started to kick back.

"Let me go!"

The monster had gotten ahold of their leg and started to pull them towards it. Frisk shined the cellphone light at and pulled away from the beast, running as fast as they can. It was impossible, but the creature caught up with them. Within the static, they could hear a voice.

" **...Give up...** "

Frisk encountered a dead end. They cursed to themselves as he smacked the wall, trying to knock it over. He futility pounded on it. Their back hit against the cold wall and they prepared for the end. As the horrific mass of dust pushed itself towards me, and stopped a few feet from me. I searched for what made them stop. In the corner, shining on the cellphone light was what made them stop.

The knife.

It was embedded in the wall, cracks appearing that dark, thick liquid spilled out of, like blood spilling out of an open wound. They looked back to the monster, its body squirming and twitching like it was intimidated. Out of instinct, Frisk pulled the knife out of the wall. They held the weapon with two hands, and moved forward.

"Get away!"

They slashed the weapon at the creature and surprisingly, the beast was hit. As they backed away from the creature, they saw they had created a deep wound by slashing diagonally from the chest. The monster didn't have anytime to react and froze there, unmoving. The same black liquid exploded from it, soaking Frisk's body. The burning sensation they felt was singing their skin. It quickly dissipated. They were left there, their screams of pain left unnoticed.

Chanting started in their head as they kneeled down.

" **You called for help.** "

" **You called for anyone.** "

" **But nobody came.** "

Frisk was now laying on the cold, wet floor, the burning never ceasing. They were about to pass out. They closed their eyes. The sound of a scream echo through their ears. They open their eyes.

Toriel.

Frisk was now on their feet, staring wide-eyed at Toriel, their eyes focusing on the wound on her body.

The exact same wound on the monster.

"Do...do you...really...hate me that much?" She wheezed, obviously in pain.

A tear went down her cheeks as she instantaneously fell, limp on the floor. Her body turned to dust as they stood there, softly sobbing.

"No...why?" Frisk asked between deep threads.

Their focus changed to the object resting in their hand.

The knife.

Frisk threw the knife down. They kicked it simultaneously, stomping on it with their shoes. They heard a crack as the blade shattered beneath their feet. They turned back to the dust that now covered the floor. They kneeled and saw the note on the floor, sealed in an envelope.

" _My dearest child,_

 _I am writing this in hopes that you will recover from your illness. Your mother, father, and siblings have the best of hope for your well-being. It is so lonely without you here, without you to help us through our day. We hope you are feeling better._

 _With hope, Toriel, Asriel, and Asgore._ "

They guessed that there was nowhere to go but ahead. The hallway leading to the exit was a quiet journey. As they entered the next room, Flowey sat inside.

"Wow. I admit, I am astonished. You single-handedly killed every worthless monster in the Ruins. I applaud you for that. You never even looked remorseful for your actions."

Every word from this imposter made Frisk want to personally punish the little weed even more.

"You're not a human, are you?"

Given the description he gave them, they were less of a human than Flowey.

"You're not a monster either. Then what are you? A...demon? Well, that doesn't matter anymore. The point is that you and I aren't so different after all, aren't we?"

Flowey's smile appeared.

"You're **Chara** , are you?"

They shook their head.

"No? You're lying, are you? Golly, you were always such a trickster, weren't you? I have an idea. Why don't we plunge this entire place into misery?"

"It sounds fun." Frisk smiled.

What? They didn't do that?

"I knew you would be on the plan. Let's turn 'em all to dust."

They nodded, giving Flowey the satisfaction he wanted.

"See you, **Chara**."

The flower disappeared underground. Frisk scratched their head. Chara didn't ring a bell in their head. The spirit stood beside them again, its entire body enveloped in black. No facial features. They pressed on, pushing over the doors at the end.

It was dark outside, snow heavily falling. The phone started to ring.

" _ **...It's cold...**_ "


End file.
